StarCrossed
by Soulmates Incorporated
Summary: BtVSHP. An idea that began as a TV Show - and what a great one it could have been... Post-The Gift, post-OoTP, a new Slayer arrives at Hogwarts to fulfill her role. We are here to get REVIEWS, so read it and do it.
1. Prologue

"Star-Crossed"

Prologue

(weird static noises)

Testing. Test-ing.1-2-3.

(taps mic)

Welcome, welcome to the enticing, intricate, well-thought-out world of STAR-CROSSED! (beams) This is your host, Jon, with my associate Anne. (cricket chirps) The cocktails on the left and the hor doeuvres are on that little table there... (pandemonium) Hey, you there, I don't want to see any hogging.

Now, one thing: Star-Crossed has a new Slayer.

Yes, don't let the door hit your uh, _rear end_ as you leave in hordes. Good. For those of you left here -- yes, all three of you -- boy, are you in for a treat! Picking up after _Order of the Pheonix (Harry Potter) _and _Chosen (Buffy)_, we join the new Slayer, Sharon, as she reluctantly takes her post as Hogwarts.

This idea first flourished as a TV show with scripts, and thus, the story is still in the average network show format -- a 22-episode season with 40-minute episodes. The chapter names are thusly named: For example, "The Vampire Who Cried Wolf (I)" means the first portion in the episode named TVWCW. Handy Dandy.

Here are a few questions that will for definite be raised in the reviews, so let me spare you that energy:

1. Almost all characters are in character, except Draco. I know you guys are tired of seeing Draco OC, but we promise that his change will be gradual and self-explanatory, not abrupt and fangirl-ish.

2. This story has been planned meticulously, but we admit that some minor errors have been made here or there. We are just too exhausted to change the many chapters we have already written. yawn Here goes: We know that Head Boy and Girl are elected in the seventh year. We know that, by chronology, Buffy (born in 1981) would be one year younger than Harry (born in 1980), rendering Sharon, her successor, about six years younger than the main characters. But hey, it's fanFICTION for a reason. If you find any other consistency errors (important ones only, please, no "Harry's hair should be 2.5 inches longer! LOL!"), please be kind enough to inform us.

3. This story has some images of bloodshed, but nothing too traumatizing. We haven't had the heart to make any of these characters swear yet, so not much strong language here. Yeah, overall, a pretty kid-friendly show. We're talking network TV here, you know. (looks at blatant sex and violence in _Desperate Housewives_ and _Lost)_ Or you know, whatever.

4. Episodes will be uploaded every Saturday and Wednesday, give or take the 24-hour period assigned by our er, beloved host.

Viola, that is all. You may now wake up from the comatose sleep and proceed with us to the first chapter... it's a bit short but if you want longer chapters, remark in your review and it can be arranged. (grins)

Well, shall we?


	2. The Vampire Who Cried Wolf I

**EPISODE ONE: The Vampire Who Cried Wolf**

* * *

Disclaimer: All hail JKR.We own nothing but our wits and charm. Nothing. Capital N, rhymes with frothing. 

Authors' Note: If you enjoy it, think of the hourswe slaved and the blood we shed...review. If you didn't enjoy it, think of how your comment will aggravate us for weeks on end... review. In a word. REVIEW. We don't even mind nitpicking.

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

_Into every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer._

_... Why do they have to be so big with the caps?_

The Chosen One. They make her sound like some sacred being, like it was a benediction. Sanctimonious, that's what it is. She was never Chosen. Being oppressed felt more like it.

Being a Slayer didn't mean just losing two hours of sleep to be out hunting for vampires and demons, and dedicating extra time for training to making herself fit for the job.

It also meant losing your parents, losing your friends, because from that Chosen day onwards, you'll be walking a path shrouded from them. It meant leaving home to fight for everybody's survival, to respond to a higher calling. Giving and giving until you yourself haven't your own air to breathe. At least, that's what it meant to her. That's what it's been like for her.

Her airborne carriage gave a sudden lurch. She could feel it landing. Thirteen hours of flight and she was almost there. She took out the note she'd slipped in her pocket. _Hogsmeade, Hogshead, Lupin._ She looked out of the window, and got a panoramic view of her new home, with the lake casually laid in the cresses of the mountains like a glistening mirror under the morning sun, and tiny wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys of the small village not far away.

A few minutes later, the carriage made a bumpy landing, and she could feel bits of stone and gravel crunching beneath its wheels as it stopped in front of the Hogshead Inn. She unfastened the bolt on the door, opened it and stepped out.

A young man was rubbing his hands right outside the inn. Presumably the pageboy. "Been expecting ya, miss. You go ahead and I'll take all your luggage for ya." He gave her a grin. She nodded curtly and went in.

There was hardly anybody inside the tavern. Two people wearing cloaks sat in one corner, and a man with graying hair sat in another.

She noticed the bartender looking at her as he cleaned a glass. Perhaps he'd never seen an Asian before. She stared impassively back at him, but not without a glint of danger in her eyes, and walked towards the solitary man.

He looked up expectantly, and she saw him size her up in a second before saying in a low voice, "Please, take a seat."

So this was her Watcher, Remus Lupin. Although his face was haggard, it wasn't run with signs that he was aging, and she could still sense vibrancy in his eyes. He was different from her first, she could tell, but what did it matter? Their role is always the same - to have authority over the Slayer. She sat, never taking her eyes from his face.

"So, Miss Lee... or Sharon? Which would you prefer?"

"Sharon." She sent him a piercing gaze.

His blue eyes, steely and bright, responded with equanimity. "Fine, then. How was your flight? Feel any fatigue from adapting to the air pressure a few thousand feet beyond the call of gravity?"

"I'm good."

He looked thoughtful. "Well, that's even better. Then we can start getting acquainted with each other and with your duties much sooner than I'd thought. If you please." He stood up and gestured for her to walk before him.

She rose from her chair and walked, slightly puzzled by his relaxation but hiding it by holding up her chin in defiance. If he thought being trifle with her would win her over, he was wrong. She'd been Chosen against her own will, and as much as she'd force herself to face her destiny, she wouldn't fraternize with anyone from the Watchers' Council.

Lupin was sliding a coin over the counter to the bartender. "Do me a favor, Rob, will you? Send the young lady's bags to Hogwarts... yes, thank you..."

* * *

The moment the man and the girl disappeared through the door, one of the cloaked figures went up to the bar. "Drop of sherry, Rob, be a good boy." He flipped a Knut into a glass on the counter. 

"Well, Spike?"

"I'd say we've got ourselves a big, bad puppy."

"Yes, well. Hopefully, you won't have to continue doing this gig for long."

"Well, someone's got to do the dirty work before the Slayer arrives in town." Spike tried to shrug his broad shoulders as casually as he could, but there was a hint of sadness in his smile.

"No worries, my friend, I'll be on the look-out."

"Good man." Spike walked back to his table with his sherry. "You sittin' alright there, pet?"

Dawn, for the first time since she'd put her hood on, raised her head and let him see her eyes, already dulled with anger and tears. "Have you found anything about... _her_?" She spat out that last word like it tasted vile in her mouth.

Even Spike, as what he was, could not help feeling a wave of pity wash over him. "No, little bit. Nothing yet."

Dawn hid her eyes again, and didn't look up even once until they left right after sundown.

* * *

"... and so Hogwarts will be home to the new Chosen One, as befits the requests of the Watchers' Council and the Ministry of Magic..." 

She decided that she liked Dumbledore. He was like her headmistress back home; firm, authoritative but never without a twinkle of amusement in his eye. He and Lupin bore a resemblance towards each other. The only difference was that Dumbledore hadn't received a mandate to monitor her. Well, Lupin seemed saner too... and not as funky. Dumbledore's white beard was so long he had to tuck it into his leather belt, which she would've killed to have, and that day he was wearing burgundy robes with suns and moons embroidered on it in gold thread.

"But Albus, certainly Fudge realizes that she is Muggle? I mean, the idea is entirely preposterous, to be frank..." Professor McGonagall spread her hands apart, her crooked hat slightly askew because of her anxiety.

Sharon had been told that she taught Transfiguration, whatever that was. Her Watcher had to realize sooner or later that it didn't matter to her what the wizarding world was like. Even if she had to live there, the Slayer still had to walk alone.

"Why, I'm surprised, Minerva," said Dumbledore, "Slayers have worked with wizards before, just not in the corner of our world. Their identity isn't non-existent to our knowledge."

"But what if she tells her kin about... about _us_?"

Sharon shifted her gaze to Dumbledore's pet phoenix, Fawkes, perched on the stand beside his desk, his feathers an array of dancing colors.

"She won't," Lupin said reassuringly.

"Don't be so certain," Professor Snape sneered from his corner of the room, his black oily hair clouding his narrow eyes. "Headmaster, I must implore you to reconsider accepting the Ministry's terms. We all know from the past that trusting Remus could be a liability... Why should we trust this Muggle girl, particularly is she's under _his_ charge?..."

God, she hated the Potions master. The loathing bubbled up inside her when she heard him call her a Muggle. It was different when McGonagall said it. She was only speaking of what she customarily knew. She could tell that Snape held a particular grudge, a particular prejudice. Discriminating git.

"Very smooth, Severus," Lupin snapped, "If I recall correctly, your own fickle allegiance has given us reason to doubt you. You had a choice, I didn't. And neither does this girl sitting here..."

"Severus, Remus, please!" McGonagall hushed.

Dumbledore gave Sharon a friendly wink, which made her face momentarily lapse into a glimmer of a smile.

"I'm sorry, Minerva, Severus. I'm afraid my decision is quite final. Sharon has gone great lengths to be here for us all, and I, for one, would not want to see her slaying skills go to waste," said Dumbledore conclusively, "Minerva, please be so kind as to show Sharon to her room at the South Tower. Remus, if I may have a word with you..."

"I still do not think this is a good idea," Snape declared loudly in his malevolent voice.

She knew that she should be civil to all the Hogwarts teachers, but she gave Snape a deadly glare all the same.

McGonagall sighed and gestured for Sharon to come with her. "Well, Miss Lee, if you will come this way please..."

Sharon rolled her eyes and followed her down the moving spiral staircase. So much for a welcoming party.

* * *

_One, two, three..._

He watched as the stone staircase leading to the Headmaster's office spun downwards, counting the seconds as it did. He remembered that the staircase always took a total of eighteen seconds to sink fully back down.

_Seven, eight, nine..._

God, hurry up. He needed to talk to Professor Snape. He hadn't wanted to. He would've preferred not to have any contact with any human for the rest of the summer holiday. He liked the isolation. His mother was the exception. He wanted to hear from her. Snape might have a letter for him.

_Twelve, thirteen, fourteen..._

He didn't want any letters addressed him. It'd only make the other teachers talk. They might as well don't. He hated gossip.

_Seventeen, eighteen..._

McGonagall was on the staircase as well. Drat. He'd thought he could finally catch Snape alone.

But McGonagall swept by him, walking briskly down the corridor. The clicking of her heels echoed off the walls.

A girl in Muggle wear followed behind her. All in black and Asian, but her skin was too pale for one. She didn't notice him too, her pointed, oval face wrapped up in its own sullenness and half-hidden by a curtain of long black hair, crossing her arms to huddle into herself, defensive.

He watched her as she made her way down the corridor, putting one booted foot before the other, as if walking on an invisible narrow strip of floor, like she didn't want to take up any space, like she didn't want to exist here at all.

Snape was standing beside him, evidently annoyed by something.

"Who's that?" he jerked one elbow towards where McGonagall and the girl had disappeared.

"New student arrived early," muttered Snape disgustedly, and didn't say anything more.

So, he didn't want to share.

But suddenly, Snape whipped towards him and put up one finger accusingly. "I'm warning you, Mr. Malfoy, stay away from her for the next fortnight, if you ever do see her, or you'll be answering to me."

He scoffed, "Fine." As if he wanted to have anything to do with anybody. To hell with the Asian girl.

Snape marched towards the opposite end of the corridor, and Malfoy shrugged to himself and slinked away.

It only occurred to him after he'd turned a corner that he'd forgotten to ask about his mother.

* * *

A/N: (whistles innocently) 


	3. The Vampire Who Cried Wolf II

EPISODE ONE: The Vampire Who Cried Wolf 

A/N: How does it feel to be the first person to review, DyingRoses? I mean, other than gratified and proud. (grins) Thanks, really, for that eloquent review and adding us on Favourites. We understand your concerns, but we hope you'll trust us, and like the way we'll be going with the story and mysterious Mr. D. So... here's Chapter Two, here's hoping that more people like it like you do. Enough to leave us comments anyway. R&R, ppl!

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

True to Dumbledore's word, Sharon's room was at the top of the South Tower. It was circular, and overlooked the great lake she'd seen earlier in the flying carriage. She stepped on the parquet, the boards creaking with every step she took, and learning one knee on the window seat, took a closer look at the view.

The water was reflecting specks of the late morning sunlight. She liked watching that happen wherever she went. It was nothing spectacular, but it was always tranquil, like the patch of sunlight was a corner of nature reserved for her only, and she could get lost in it for as long as she chose.

"That lake is rather famous, especially since it's inhabited by a giant squid," McGonagall spoke up, stirring her from her reverie.

"What? Oh..." She looked around the room, casually inspecting the four-poster bed made of strong oak and hung with velvet curtains of crimson red. And a wardrobe, a bedside table, a desk and a stool. The basic necessities of a guest room and not much else.

"Well, I hope you'll be comfortable here," McGonagall said politely, as was the way she'd been shaped by the rules of conduct to be.

"Thank you."

"We've charmed the candles for you to turn them on without lighting them manually, with matchsticks," McGonagall sniffed at the very idea and indicated the candlesticks set up around the room, "You just put your hand near and snap your fingers to turn the flames on or off."

McGonagall was irritating her. Yeah, she appreciated the polite gestures and everything, but she just wanted to be alone. She turned and gave the professor a tight-lipped smile.

"Right then. That will be all. Remus will be here any minute." McGonagall turned and left.

She was still staring out of the window when Lupin found her, still trying to get accustomed to her room, the furniture, the late morning sunlight that shone in at that particular angle at that time of day... just the feeling of being... _here_.

"So, you like it?"

She turned abruptly at the sound of his voice.

"Sorry..." he apologized and stepped in, "I know it might be somewhat different, but you'll get used to it in time..."

Her feelings exactly.

"... you could personalize it," he added kindly.

"I guess."

"Well then, now that that's one thing completed on our agenda, would you like to see your training room?"

* * *

She had to admit, she was impressed. The school hadobviously put a lot of effort into making her feel honored and respected. Weapons of every shape and size and from every century hung on the walls, though for what purpose, she could never fathom.

"Your own collection of ancient relics, if you like..." Lupin said, and shrugged. A balancing beam stood in the middle of the room.

"Wow..." she breathed.

He chuckled, "I knew you'd let your amazement show at this point."

So. He could tell she'd been trying to act cool.

Ignoring him, she continued to examine the weapons, stopping to run her fingers over a steel sword.

"That was from Medieval England, called the..."

"The Aria," she finished for him.

"Well... yes, right you are..." He was mildly surprised.

"Held by Sir Berndolm in 1251. Folklore tells that he even slayed an ogre with it," she continued, and noticed that he was still looking at her. "I've read my books."

"I see." The he smiled, "Well, I'd hoped you'd like it, and I can see that you do. I won't... be expecting you to train on your first day, but I _would_ like you to patrol tonight, see if we can clear out some of those vampires."

Sharon swubg the Aria around, savoring theweight in her hands and the coarsetexture ofthe handle.

"Stay if you want, have the room to yourself a little bit. I'll,uh,meet you by the fountain in the courtyard around seven?"

She looked around the room fondly without realizing it. "I'll be there."

* * *

Lupin took her to the Hogsmeade cemetery, where the vampires were most commonly found. Just as she'd assumed, he didn't lecture her, but he did give her some pointers.

"Remember, there are times when they don't come to you. Sometimes, you have to go hunt them out, so you have to be listening. All the time."

At the first vampire, she didn't have to heed his advice at all. The vamp sprang before her, daring a fight, growling and snarling and trying to scare her, when they knew perfectly well that fear isn't on the criteria list of a Slayer. As if they'd even have a chance of winning.

She already had him pinned down after a couple of blows, and that was when she felt the power of triumph over yet another vampire too much to control, and continued to throw fists in his face, hearing his bones crack, and filling her with tantalizing delight, and all the while, Lupin just watched her expressionlessly.

Finally, she plunged the stake into his heart, and he dissolved into ashes, but the moment she moved to get up, a fist connected to her face, and she ended up on the ground again, the force of the blow nearly knocking her out.

The newcomer kicked her in the gut, and punched her in the chin again as she struggled to get back on her feet.

"It doesn't matter whether you're up or down. Use whatever you have wherever you are to attack," she heard Lupin say.

She swung her leg around and tripped up the vamp, and stabbed her stake into its heart immediately.

Panting, she picked herself up, brushing the ashes off her jacket.

"Not bad," Lupin commented. "You've got potential."

She stared at him incredulously. "That's all you have to give me?"

He checked his pocket-watch. "I think that'd be all for one night. Now, why don't I take you to the village for a drink?"

She glared at him. So that was it. All he said was that she had potential, but nothing else.

"Well, come on," he beckoned impatiently.

She groaned to herself, pocketed her stake, and followed haughtily as he led her back to the Hogsmeade lanes where people were still up and about. She didn't know what he was intending to do next. She hated it when she couldn't grasp her Watcher.It gave her the feeling that she was losing some undeclared fight for ignorant rebellion .

* * *

Lupin took her to the Three Broomsticks, where he got her something called a Butterbeer.

"For your effort," he said, meaning to be encouraging, but infuriating her more than ever, because he just looked so teasingly serene.

She took the drink sulkily and gave no response. She brought the tankard to her lips, took a sip, and found Butterbeer to be the most delicious and irresistible thing she'd ever tasted, and downed half of it while he went on watching her. She had a feeling he had something to say, but she pretended not to notice. After the drink had brought some color back to her cheeks, he went on to say it anyway.

"So..." he cleared his throat, "Does it feel strange here... when you know no one?"

She almost spat out her mouthful of Butterbeer.

"Yes, I suppose it's a bit soon for the deep questions-"

"I don't want to talk about it." It was the first time she'd said anything so abruptly since her arrival.

"I know, but you have to."

Again with the penetrating glare. She didn't care how many times she'd already done that. Anything to make her unwillingness clear.

He sighed. "Look, hear me out. I can't imagine how much pressure our demands are giving you. That's part of the reason I'm here - to soften everything for you, guide you when you're lost. That's the best we can give you now, all right? We can't change your destiny for you. So... just work with me."

She stared back at him in serious consideration, remembering her parents, the two people for whom she'd felt no surge of anger since her becoming a Slayer, the two people who'd made her realize how weak and lonely she was without them.

She felt her throat tighten as she opened her mouth to speak. "I dream about them... every night. The night they... they were..."

"The night you lost them?" he supplied gently.

She closed her eyes and remembered the vampires. They'd had her knocked out for a few seconds and started on her mother and father. It happened so fast, and she forgot the way they screamed. She put up a struggle trying to escape. It wasn't until she'd shoved one of them into a tree with a small branch jutting out when she realized that was how to kill them.

She opened her eyes, and found the sight of everything clouded with her tears.

"And you're angry, I know," Lupin continued, "And killing the long line of vampires being thrown at you won't ever be enough vengeance for what they've done to your parents. And you."

"You're smart," she scoffed, sniffling.

"Yes... I saw it in the way you were... pulverizing that first vampire," he chuckled to himself. "You want to hear my comments, no?"

She stopped sniffling and took another sip of Butterbeer, afraid to speak.

"First thing to know is, you don't get grades for this. There's no score-sheet with words like 'agility', 'speed', 'technique' and boxes beside them to be filled in. A Slayer is already given all those. You have it all. That's why I said you have the potential."

He leaned forward. "But that anger you feel? The power? It's blinding you." A beat. "Remember the second one that was preying on you? He got you in the face even before you could see him, right? Why was that?"

"I-I was busy hitting the other one?" she tried impatiently, pressing her hand on her eyes to stop her tears from flowing.

"Too busy. You forgot to listen, to use your senses. You were too worked up by your anger, and you didn't notice that second one, and so you got punched in the face."

He paused, and she just held the mug of Butterbeer tight in her hands.

"I know what you're feeling, and it's natural to feel angry... but you must always remember to control it when it fits the situation, understand?"

She said nothing, except, "You digested the Slayer's handbook before you left?"

He shrugged.

"More or less."

* * *

A/N: (in Spike's voice) Throw usa review or two o'er here, won't you, luv? 


	4. The Vampire Who Cried Wolf III

EPISODE ONE: The Vampire Who Cried Wolf 

A/N: Us again. (sigh) Seems you are our only reviewer again, DyingRoses. Is our title not attractive enough? Should we change our summary to "REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW" , etc? Ah, never mind. Chappie Three's up! And uh, to answer your question, our dear DR, our secret to effective updating is: We have the first few chapters buckling at the reins to be posted already, 'cause (again) we have been prepping this for quite some time.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

Remus figured that his words wouldn't have had effect on her. Not that he'd known any other Slayers, but she was one of those who were unpredictable. You never had any idea if they took criticism as incentive or as something that they had to work against. One touch and they'd instantly flare up.

But he noticed that she consented to start her training the next day; she didn't even sulk when she thought he wasn't looking, so he supposed she'd become the least bit more docile.

After asking her to meet him in the Special Training Room, he set off to look for relevant reading material in the school library.

The moment he stepped in, he found Draco Malfoy lounging on one of the chairs, with his feet propped up on the table, absently flipping through one of the leather-bound books. Remus had been told that the boy was there to help re-organize the library before school starts, so he wasn't surprised. What did surprise him was the fact that Draco appeared to be contemplative... He'd never seen the Slytherin student with any expression other than a sneer.

Draco, having heard someone come in, shot a glance over the rim of the leather cover. Seeing it was Remus, he closed the book with a bang, and tossed it onto a fair-sized pile beside him.

"I heard some werewolf was back," stated the boy flatly.

Remus, unsure of how to reply, walked to a stray book trolley, and started checking the titles.

Draco gave Remus the once-over and crossed his arms. "You're not back to teach, I hope. For all our sakes."

Remus forces a thin-lipped smile. "No, Mister Malfoy... I am not back to teach. Would you mind pointing me in the direction of the Occult section? It's been some time, and well, whoever's been rearranging these books have done an absolutely chaotic job-"

"Fourth shelf on the right," Draco stood up, picked up the books on the table swiftly and went behind the counter. "What do you need Occult books for?"

"Oh, uh, well, you know, just doing a smidge of light reading. Us, uh, _werewolves_ just love to read..."

He set off in the maze of bookcases, and after a bit of searching, picked up Weapons Through the Centuries Vol. I & II. Draco was still standing behind the counter when he came back, cataloguing some scrolls. Remus had the distinct feeling that the boy wanted him out.

"So, do I need to, uh, do the standard borrowing procedure?" Remus held up his book.

"Couldn't care less." Draco replied stiffly, going swiftly into the Restricted Section without a backwards glance.

As he left the library, Remus made a mental note to himself that some things in life never change, like death, taxes and Malfoys. Suddenly, his mind evoked the ancient memories of a schoolyard Lucius Malfoy that are much better forgotten. 'That apple sure didn't fall far from that tree,' he mused. Tossing the book slightly and catching it with his other hand, Remus focused his mind on the training ahead and started back towards the Special Training Room.

* * *

They didn't do anything much, exceptassesseing Sharon's martial arts and sword-fighting skills. She'd made off to a good start, being well-versed in the use of quite a few weapons, and knew the historic origins of many more. Not that they were relevant to her training at all. She just happened to become increasingly engrossed in Weapons Throughout the Centuries during a break, and no matter what Lupin said, she wouldn't put it down, so he gave up and took a peek at the book too, and soon, Watcher and Slayer were flipping through the weaponry encyclopedia together.

"You know, we've been slacking," Lupin said at some point.

"Whoop-dee-do," Sharon murmured.

For someone whose life was destined to be ruled by violence, his Slayer certainly had a more complacent hobby. Lupin watched her frowning in concentration, her eyes darting across the page, devouring one minuscule printed word after another. A pursuit of knowledge. That was another bonus trait in a Slayer. He figured that she could have made a fine scholar were she not forced to be the Chosen One.

Per chance, he looked out the window, and judging by the westward position of the sun, it was already early evening. He made a move to get up, but suddenly collapsed, as a sharp pain engulfed his abdomen, making him gasp.

Sharon shut the book with a snap. "You okay?"

He wasn't. When she caught sight of his face, his eyes were already glazed over, and a sheen of sweat had broken over his forehead.

"You must be coming down with a fever. " A very rapid fever. She helped him up, and he pushed her away gruffly.

"You'd better go... I'll be alright... just a slight dizzy spell, but I need rest..." He stopped, panting. "Go patrol on your own... you can manage, yes?"

"I- yeah, but-" she stopped and moved to touch him.

"For goodness' sake, girl, never mind about me." He ushered her towards the door. "And don't forget your cross."

Leaving the bemused girl in the hallway, he walked briskly towards the stairs.

Sharon frowned after him. Something was wrong. He was fine only moments ago... he was hiding something from her. She knew it.

* * *

Come sundown, Spike was already patrolling the more desolate places at Hogsmeade, searching for traces of the werewolf's scent and armed with a tranquilizer. He didn't know if this one was harmless. The last one he'd known locked itself up obediently during those three nights of the month. No muss, no fuss.

He didn't know how people here disciplined werewolves. That's why he told Dawn that he had to make sure the one he'd spotted would be restrained.

Rob had commented that it was unusual for a vampire to be helping stamping out demons and werewolves and the like.

He told Rob about the chip in his head; that the chip, while forbidding him to hurt humans, allowed him to fight demons. He'd have to make do with that. What other option did he have anyway? "I need my share of the blood and gore, Rob," he said sardonically. So here he was now, vanquishing fellow vampires, keeping people safe in their beds at night instead of possibly still touring the South African shores with Dru, sipping on human blood colodas.

He finally caught the scent when he came past a rickety house fenced of by wires. He could already hear the werewolf's piercing howls coming from inside, crashing its own body against the walls.

He checked that his tranquilizer was loaded with darts, and went off towards the house.

* * *

"You know, you're making this game of hide-and-seek fall into the_really _disappointing side of Difficulty-O-Meter," Sharon complained, as her third vampire that night burst into a cloud of dust. "Those aren't the rules, you know," she said to the air, "You're supposed to hide, so that _I _can find _you_..."

Her previous Watcher, Ralph Adales, had told her that vampires could be really stupid creatures. They were only programmed to kill, to drink blood and torture. They naturally were, being without souls, but being the Slayer, you had no choice. It gives you the authority to be angry, to find them tiresome, and it's this pride and anger that helps you overpower them... although of course, she kept in mind what Lupin had said to her the night before. Then again, that was another reason for her to find the vamps particularly detestable that night. She couldn't have the chance to act upon what he'd said, with them dancing around before her, arms open wide in stupidity rather than threat. Face it, they were _welcoming _her to close in for the kill.

She stopped speaking when she heard a bang.

It came from the place Lupin had told her about on their way home last night - the Shrieking Shack. That was the way she'd come. Strange. It actually sounded like a gunshot. Wizards didn't use guns.

By instinct, she ran along the wired fence, looking for a gateway, and right before she found it, somebody sprang out from the path and ran away into the night.

"Hey!" she shouted, chasing the disappearing figure.

It wasn't any good. She'd lost him. At least... whoever it was looked like a 'him'. He might've darted back into the foliage to stop his tracks. She frowned and approached the house cautiously, dreading whatever might still be in it. The whole house seemed to be swaying on the spot, and windows that showed the pitch-blackness inside foreboded danger.

Stepping through the front entrance, she found a trap door leading downwards open. The intruder had probably escaped this way. Cobwebs suspended across the rickety staircase remained intact, so whoever it was, it was never upstairs. She made her way down the ladder hung with cobwebs and dead beetles (she grimaced at the sight of them) and came to a halt when she realized what was lying on the stone floor of the basement.

A shaft of moonlight shining through a small window illuminated a ragged patch of fur. The werewolf's form heaved up and down with every labored breath it took. Something was jutting out from its mass of fur. She knelt down and pulled it out. A tranquilizer dart. She rolled it around on the palm of her hand, puzzled. The intruder definitely wasn't a wizard. They performed every task with their wands.

She glanced around the room to make sure the werewolf was the only living thing there. She knew that werewolves are actually humans, and to kill one would mean manslaughter. She couldn't do anything about the sleeping figure on the floor now. It was late, and she was already yawning and massaging her shoulder. Might as well stay here to find out who the werewolf was in the morning. She settled against the wall, drowsily reminding herself to take the werewolf back to Hogwarts at dawn for Lupin to see, and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

A/N: Cookies for review! Cookies! And DR, you get double. 


	5. The Vampire Who Cried Wolf IV

EPISODE ONE: The Vampire Who Cried Wolf 

A/N: 'ello! Welcome to the fold, EvilClone... Meet our long-time supporter, DeadRoses, mighty fine person! smiles Okay, exams are coming up, not much time to dillie-dally, just the few essentials 'en. The story IS set after Chosen, and we don't really plan to resurrect Buffy any time soon (why pull her outta Heaven?), though her gang will be arriving, as will be seen in Episode Two. Hope you like this chapter. Thank you SOOO much so putting our fic up in other sites, DR, we owe you one. Hope you liked the choc choc chip cookies. So, uh, we own none of the characters, sadly. This is the last portion on Episode One... enjoy with relish, then review with enthusiasm!

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

Sharon woke when she couldn't bear the sun shining right into her eyes any longer. God, with the hard surface she'd been sleeping on all night, she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. She had a crick in her neck, and she needed a massage, she was sure of it. Maybe Lupin'd do it...

... and he was right there in the basement, reclining on the ladder, waiting for her to shake loose the grogginess from her head.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" she squeaked, hand flying to her throat, momentarily forgetting where she was. "You're not planning to greet me like this every morning, are yo-"

The werewolf wasn't there. It must have escaped.

"O-oh, no!" Sharon leapt up in horror. "The werewolf! There was a werewolf here last night, Lupin... whoever it was ran away before I woke up... I was planning to-" She tilted her head at him, confused. "And why're you here?"

Lupin looked like he'd been out most of the night. His hair was unkempt, dark circles were around his eyes, and dirt was smudged all over his hands and face, but what startled her the most were the rips in his clothes. He looked like he'd been through even a more violent night than she had.

"It didn't run away," he said quietly, fiddling with a stray bit of cloth. In her shock, the uncertainty and exhaustion pervading him had utterly gone unnoticed. There was something he had to tell her.

"Duh, of course it did," she retorted, looking around distractedly, "I was planning to catch it turn-"

"I'm telling you, it didn't," he interrupted, still not knowing how to break his news to her.

She massaged her temples. "Lupin, now isn't the time for jokes. I have to hunt it down, the werewolf... it might do harm-" She tired, and she was irritated. She'd let a werewolf slip through her fingers, and now she'd have to search for it all over again, and lock it up. Ralph Adales had reminded her time and time again... that was how you should control werewolves... and Lupin didn't seem to care...

"I am the werewolf," he blurted out.

* * *

She stared at him dumbfounded. She thought she must have been imagining things. That used to happen a lot when she was daydreaming during class. She'd be propping her head on her hand, her inattentiveness showing, and the next moment, she'd ask her friends if they'd said something to her... usually, the answer was that they had.

Lupin walked into the light, and at once, she caught sight of the angry scratches below his chin, previously hidden by the shadow it cast on his neck. "I scratched myself."

"Yeah, you- yeah, right," she laughed bitterly to herself, rubbing her shoulder where it was still throbbing with pain, and still blaming herself for not having woken up sooner. "You're not a werewolf. You're a wizard."

But Lupin didn't answer, and just kept on looking at her, disappointed that she didn't believe him, twirling the stray piece of cloth round and round his fingers.

All of a sudden, she couldn't find the strength to stand.

"I knew you'd find out sooner or later... I just had no idea it'd be this soon."

It didn't make sense to her. The words were echoing further and further in her mind, as if they'd be saturated along with everything clustered in her brain, and she'd just let them stay there. _Why? Why him... of all people..._ Her hand flew up to her mouth when she realized she'd just spoken that out loud.

"Sharon?" He tried.

"Oh... God. I mean, I'm sorry..." She just wanted to... sit down... somewhere.

"I-It's fine if you don't want me to be-" He added hurriedly, taking a step toward her, but not further. "I'm on some sort of probation period anyway, just in case..."

"No." The word came out before she could control herself. That wasn't the problem. She just didn't understand.

"Oh." Lupin seemed to lose his footing.

"I just- I-" She massaged her neck again, weary from more than the post-patrol fatigue. Every muscle in her body seemed to be aching. "I just need to know why... but I-I suppose there isn't really a-"

Rubbing his temples, Lupin trudged to a wooden crate and sat down. "The Council couldn't find anyone a-appropriate in this district on such short notice-- they allocate Watchers to their Slayers according to district-- so I offered to, seeing that I had the qualifications."

He paused to make sure she was listening.

"You know, well-versed in the occult and the dark arts and such. They saw no imminent danger, and really had no other choice, so they decided to give me a try."

She frowned. "Why didn't they tell me?"

"We'd... planned to take the risk and wait to tell you the truth, sort of to test your reaction," he replied, "I know that wasn't fair to you at all, but I am not exactly the most perfect Watcher they had in mind. And I apologize... for everything."

The sun was still blazing outside, but otherwise all was silent. Sharon stood, silent, giving herself a while for everything to sink in. Lupin is her Watcher, that much was true. Before she left home, Ralph Adales had shown her a note verified by the Council, stating the fact. They just conveniently left out some _details_. She glanced into Lupin's eyes and saw unmistakable kindness and loyalty within. She trusted him.

"Okay." She muttered, convincing herself.

His eyes widened in relief. "You are fine with this?"

"Yeah." She shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile. "I... I guess so. I mean... you're nice enough."

His whole body seemed to shrink when he let out the breath he'd been holding. "That's good..." he murmured, more to himself than to her.

She took his arm. "Come on, let's get youcleaned up."

* * *

"You honestly have no idea who shot me?" Lupin questioned her again.

The moment they'd arrived back at Hogwarts, they rushed to the Hospital Wing to have his wounds dressed. Madam Pomfrey was absolutely horrified.

"Forgot your potion again, didn't you?" she reprimanded him, tutting as she smeared some ointment over his skin.

He explained to Sharon what the Wolfsbane Potion was: a stabilizer to curb the ferociousness of a werewolf, making it tame during the three nights in the middle of the month.

"It's quite a recent discovery, and Professor Snape has kindly agreed to mix it for me every month."

"Yeah, sure," she rolled her eyes.

He chuckled, but gasped when the witch-hazel stung him. "He's not very likeable, I know. But he means well."

After bandaging his cuts, they went back to the training room, where he asked her about the mystery person she'd run into.

"I couldn't see him, it was too dark," she replied, "he was wearing a leather duster though... oh, and whoever he was isn't a wizard." She took the dart from her pocket and showed it to him. "He used a tranquilizer dart. I don't think you people use these."

Her Watcher took it, and cradled it in the palm of his hand in fascination. "Hmm... curious. I gather there's someone out there fighting on our side then."

"Yeah, I wish I knew who." She watched him play with the dart for a while. "Lupin?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever... felt angry about it?"

He set the dart down on his desk, placing his hands behind his head thoughtfully. "At first, I think I did. All the intolerance people held against me… it was unreasonable and difficult. They didn't think that my kind are... trustworthy. It got truly lonely."

"Lonely?" she echoed.

He smiled. "Yes, lonely."

His smile confirmed everything. Watcher and Slayer-- they were the same, with identities they couldn't change, and the loneliness they couldn't fight, because they were both different from the rest of the world.

"Are you still lonely?" she continued to ask.

He replied that at times, he still is. "However, things have been a lot better ever since. Life's that way, you know. Things happen and within a moment, you're changed."

She looked out of the window. The weather was at its best that day. The sun was so radiant, the shadows of the clouds high above were visibly cast on the mountains surrounding the school, and the specks of light danced among the waves of the lake, just as they did yesterday, making her stare. A little corner of life for her alone.

"Yeah, it happens..."

* * *

Spike was lounging on the moth-eaten armchair in their room, the one where he slept in during the day. He let Dawn sleep on the bed, and refused when she offered to switch. She couldn't see why, though. She had no use for the bed during daytime. She wished he wouldn't, 'cause the chairs always made him ache all over.

She put down "Magick For The Uninitiated"-- a book that she'd been trying to concentrate on all morning. All the talk of roots and cauldrons made no more sense to her than Spike's generosity did.

"So, you found anything last night?" she asked.

He breathed out some smoke from his cigarette. She had the impression that he'd heard her, but he still appeared rapt in thought.

"Caught a werewolf last night. Made sure it got locked up fine. Did in a few cronies on my way back..." His breathed out, slightly above a whisper, touching the recovering bruises on his knuckles. "Got to wonder... where the Slayer is. Bound to show up soon."

Dawn rolled her eyes. She'd heard that around a thousand times already. She wished he wouldn't say it, and that he would say it, just to prove that she wasn't hurt, that she could take the pain from hearing him say it. Her fingernails dug into the yellowed pages she'd been trying to understand.

_Over my dead body._

_

* * *

_

A/N: SO. That was it. The first episode done. Mostly, the first episode was a trial in writing styles and very much a work-in-progress. But starting Episode Two, Hogwarts is once again in business... meet all your old fave HP characters and a few _special_ new people! Constructive criticism and any comments at all are utterly welcome, people... bows and curtains fall Until Saturday.


	6. School Never Changes I

EPISODE TWO: SCHOOL NEVER CHANGES 

A/N: Yo, denizens. We unite once again. As we begin the second episode, us at SMInc are DYING. Of stress. Just the regular exams and tests would have been hell enough, but now it seems that our teachers have seen fit to give us numerous projects with improbable deadlines. (hmph) So, please forgive if we slighted anything in the story. Including the following tragic mistake recorded in the reviews. Quoted thus:

_The past few weeks has been somewhat of a blurry, agonizing BLAH of a time... and a TRAGIC mistake has been made. This story is post-The Gift. Not post-Chosen. I was thinking of The Gift, but somehow I wrote Chosen. Thinking of Gift, wrote the Chosen, desires to kill self for misleading wonderful readers. But I mean The Gift. The episode where Buffy jumps from the tower and saves Dawn and humanity. Again. Yeah._

**Dying Roses:** Thankies for leaving comments again, we do enjoy your presence. Glad you loved the cookie... go, go get more. There's another platter where that came from. But do leave the one with coconut topping-- it's a ritual sacrifice to The Power Named Whedon and The Transcendence Known As JKR. (grins)

**EvilClone: **I see you reviewed as soon as it came up… many thanks, much gratitude! I already apologized and thanked you, but well, my desktop plant-slash-clock thing is already named Evil Clone... I cannot dedicate anything more to you, my friend. Cookies re: above comment to DR.

**Puika:** Hey, hey, hey, hey! Welcome! Loved you, missed you... yaddayaddayadda. Watched a video of you guys in Shanghai today... HI-larious. Exams slowing down the updating, actually.

Without FURTHER ado (rolls eyes), voila.

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CHAPTER ONE

It was the sound of the London underground outside that jolted him awake. Cursing the train inwardly, he opened his eyes. There is a pumpkin-sized hole in the curtain on his four-poster bed, resolutely unfixed. He always seemed to get the worst rooms at the Leaky Cauldron. But then, being there was much better than holidaying with the Dursleys, worrying if he'd been abandoned by the Order - he had to thank the Weasleys for getting him out of that hellhole on Privet Drive; they always got him out of there one way or another - but one thing that hadn't changed was that he still couldn't get a good night's sleep.

He checked his watch. Eight o'clock. He had to get up anyway. He had been wearing the watch on his wrist all the time. It wasn't that there was no other way to tell the time in the wizarding world; He just felt better, knowing that a piece of the Muggle world was with him. At least there was a place where no one knew of his identity, knew of what happened that summer, knew of the Dark Lord and of terror.

He got dressed, and went to the eating area downstairs, where it was already buzzing with morning chatter, and Ron and Hermione were having breakfast. Hermione had a thick book placed beside her plate of bacon, and she'd apparently been trying to eat the bacon and read the book without dripping bits of it on the pages. They both smiled nervously at him.

That's what they always did when they saw him join them now. Like they had to be constantly mindful of his feelings and hide things from him. He wished they wouldn't give him the "royal" treatment that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable. He was fine the way he was, whether Sirius was here or not. He could still breathe, and it wasn't like Voldemort would come crashing in any moment, robes billowing, and suck the life out of him. They didn't have to keep their eye on him like he was some sort of legendary gem. He felt like a mummy on display at the British Museum. Hallowed but soffocated.

"Morning, Harry," said Ron.

"Morning," he replied, settling himself down for some toast.

"Want any eggs for breakfast, Harry?" asked Nicola, the pretty, auburn-haired waitress he'd come to know pretty well. At least she, unlike everybody else, treated him like he was a normal person.

"Yeah," Harry replied, rearranging the plates at their table to make more room.

"How'd you like 'em?"

"Sunny-side up please."

"One o' 'at comin' right up." She scribbled the order on her notepad with a mini-quill and flew it towards the kitchen, flickered Harry a smile and bustled off to clean a table.

"So," he said, "What're your plans for today?"

"I'll bet Hermione here would want to start digesting everything in her books instead of what's on her table," Ron said, jerking his head in her direction. "What with her being Head Girl this year an' all. She needs to be a, what do they call it, an example."

"You'd do the same too," Hermione retorted, swallowing her bacon before flipping a page. "The scheduling of the N.E.W.T.s still hasn't changed. If we want to excel in them, we'll have to start revising now, Ronald." She looked at Harry for agreement.

"I... can't," he said quickly, "Still have got... got... some shopping for school supplies to do." He took out his list from his pocket to be inspected.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Hermione fished out an envelope from hers. "Hedwig dropped this off for you this morning. It's from Hogwarts. Must be kind of urgent."

He opened it, and took out the parchment, which bore the school emblem at the top.

_'Dear Mr. Potter,'_ it read.

_Due to some business in which the school would need your assistance, we would like to press for you to return one day earlier than the start of the school term (31st August). We will be sending a Knight Bus around to the Leaky Cauldronto collect you, at about 8 in the morning. We apologize for any inconvenience caused, and look forward to your arrival._

_Yours sincerely,_

_(curly, flourishy signature)_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Ron and Hermione looked at him dumbfoundedly when he'd finished reading italoud to them.

"You don't suppose..." Ron began, and Harry could feel exasperation overtake him before the dread did. He could see fear in Ron's eyes, question in Hermione's, and doubt in everyone else's, and he was getting tired.

Hermione kicked Ron under the table.

"Ow! What? That's pretty short notice, isn't it? 31st August? That's tomorrow! It must be-"

"If it was anything concerning the Order, they would've informed your father, Ronald," Hermione pointed out impatiently. "I'm sure it's just school business of some sort."

"Yeah, well..." Harry folded up the letter. "In that case, I need to get my school supplies today... loads of packing up to do..."

"We'll come with you." Ron shoved his plate away. "I'll ask Dad to come with us."

More company. He couldn't help getting a bit irritated. They really weren't planning to let him out of their sight, not even forone second.

* * *

The moment Harry stepped through the gates of Hogwarts, he felt he was truly home. Probably no one looked forward to school more than he did, except for Hermione... yeah, Hermione'd give him a run for that title, but his case was different. Hogwarts was his escape from the Dursleys. It was also his protection from Voldemort, although he'd realized that as he'd been growing older, his encounters with the Dark Lord had become more frequent, and he was always just a hairbreadth from getting killed.

But with Dumbledore there, he always felt better. Dumbledore always knew what to do, even when there was nothing to do.

It felt strange, though, to be back so early, when the school was empty. Like the time he had to stay within the school grounds when everybody got to visit Hogsmeade. He knew everyone would be back soon, and he was glad to be there, only because he looked forward to reliving the ordinary bustling school life after the waiting he had to do for the next 24 hours.

"The Headmaster's office, Mr. Potter. He's waiting," said Filch, as he reached to take Harry's chest.

"Thank you," he said, turning for the staircase, and stopped when he saw the tall boy coming down the stairs. "Malfoy?"

Draco hadn't seen him, as he was busy adjusting the unkempt sleeves of his school shirt. It looked as if he'd just woken up and taken a shower, with hair tousled and slightly damp. When Harry called out to him, he actually seemed surprised. He's never worn a similar lookbefore, at least not towards Harry. It is a known fact that he was always expecting Harry to be around the corner for him to jeer at. However, before Harry could ponder further, Draco was already donning his usualsmirk.

"Well, well, back early, aren't we, Potter?" he drawled. He came down the stairs to stand face-to-face with Harry. "What's the matter? Professor Snape thought you lagging behind and dragged you back for extra lessons? Again?"

"I don't see you doing any better, Malfoy," Harry replied coldly. "Apparently, you've been back earlier than me."

For an instant, Draco seemed as if he didn't have a comeback. Harry wasn't sure, but hesitance seemed to flicker across Draco's eyes.

"I've been made Head Boy, Potter," Draco finally said. Sneered. "Dumbledore wanted me back for a little preparation work naturally."

Without another word, he shoved into Harry's shoulder and started to skulk away.

"Wait. I need the password to Dumbledore's office." Harry ventured.

Draco's shoes stopped clacking against the stone floors.

"Incendio titillandus," he replied, without turning his head, then went on his way.

Harry eyed his disappearing backside critically. Yes, everything was still there. The arrogance, the snideness. What was new was the badge to be pinned on his robes. The badge stating that he could reprimand Harry in any way he wished. Harry couldn't contemplate how the school staff could've chosen him. He sniffed, and with a slight feeling of disgust, and continued up the staircase.

* * *

A/N: A little short and a little late, I know. (sigh) Please do not be as stingy with your reviews, and take pity on my schedule, which is as stuffed as one of those Thanksgiving turkeys. Cookies for reviews and wePROMISE to be punctual next time! 


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